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Utopian Turtletop. Monsieur Croche's Bête Noire. Contact: turtletop [at] hotmail [dot] com

Wednesday, January 05, 2005

12 DRUMMERS DRUMMING -- AND I DON’T MEAN A HIPPIE DRUM CIRCLE -- NOT THAT THERE’S ANYTHING WRONG WITH HIPPIE DRUM CIRCLES -- I’VE TAKEN PART IN SOME MYSELF -- BUT I MEAN THE 12th DAY OF CHRISTMAS -- EPIPHANY

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and call’d them by name:
“Now! Dasher, now! Dancer, now! Prancer, and Vixen,
“On! Comet, on! Cupid, on! Dunder, on! Blixem;
“To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
“Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”

-- from “ACCOUNT OF A VISIT FROM ST. NICHOLAS” as it originally appeared in the Troy Sentinel, December 23, 1823


You will have noticed that reindeer’s names don’t match the well-known version, the punctuation is eccentric, and the title is different. I love the exclamation points, which emphasize the interjections as opposed to the names.

The descendants of Henry Livingston have been trying for generations to persuade the world that their ancestor wrote the famous “Account.” A few years ago they persuaded Don Foster, whose book Author Unknown persuaded me.

80 years ago they almost persuaded Burton Stevenson, whose 1923 book Famous Single Poems and the controversies that raged around them tells the story as to how the author of verses like these of Livingston’s:

Such Gadding -- such ambling -- such jaunting about!
To tea with Miss Nancy -- to sweet Willy's rout,
New Parties at coffee -- then parties at wine,
Next day all the world with the Major will dine!
Then bounce all hands to Fishkill must go in a clutter
To guzzle bohea, and destroy bread and butter.

. . . was more likely to have written the “Account” than the author of verses like these of “Account” authorship claimant Clement Clarke Moore’s:

To me 'tis giv'n your virtue to secure
From custom's force and pleasure's dangerous lure.
For if, regardless of my friendly voice,
In Fashion's gaudy scenes your heart rejoice,
Dire punishments shall fall upon your head:
Disgust, and fretfulness, and secret dread.

. . . but Stevenson could not believe without evidence that Moore would have lied. Foster found evidence that Moore was capable of lying; the story is well and amply told in the links above.

And to all a good night!

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